


Spoil Me Rotten

by autisticrick



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Pre-Slash, Protective Tony Stark, Starker, Suspense, Swearing, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, and it actually ended up about as sweary and violent as your typical pg-13 movie, i plotted it out like a movie script, i've also never written something like this so please be nice!!, like a lot, lots of hugging, this fic is incredibly tame tbh, this whole thing is cute as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:47:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticrick/pseuds/autisticrick
Summary: Even before everything went to hell, Tony was never one to get attached to people or material possessions. He's never even owned a dog.But Peter, he supposes, is not a technically a "person." Not anymore, at least.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 107





	Spoil Me Rotten

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 1 of the Starker Games! Three artists worked together on a piece and I came in to write a little something based on it (the final piece is included in the text). I couldn't have asked for a more talented/supportive group of people to collaborate with!! <3
> 
> The artists:  
> Sketch: [Professor Glucose](https://c6h12o6-work.tumblr.com) (I also implore you to check out their hilarious [zombie!Peter animation](https://c6h12o6-work.tumblr.com/post/188734275424/the-zombie-song) they did for Halloween; be warned that this one is more graphic and there's actual blood and gore)  
> Ink: [Blushnik](https://blushnik.tumblr.com)  
> Color: [Garnet](https://still-lovelygarnet.tumblr.com)

Tony was a survivor. Not by choice, or even by birth. But when he ran away from home all those decades ago, he'd made a choice to be a different person. His _own_ person, and _not_ one shaped by wealth or beholden to his parents. Or anyone else, for that matter. He wanted to say he was self-made and have it be true.

Tony Stark didn't want to need anybody but Tony Stark.

So how did he end up with the kid?

 **The short answer:** he was followed.

 **The long answer:** he was out getting supplies when the kid, all smiles and sunshine despite the whole rotting flesh thing, approached him but didn't attack. So Tony let him tag along; he clung to his arm like his half-life depended on it as they snuck back to his basecamp.

 **The real answer:** survival can be a lonely pursuit.

"I don't understand how you seem to recognize normal speech," Tony muttered as he set about locking up his base--the R&D lab at Oscorp where he used to work--for the night. His new little zombie pal observed all the hi-tech security measures with unusually rapt attention. "The infection is supposed to stop _all_ higher brain function."

The kid just shrugged, and started making himself comfortable on Tony's emaciated futon.

"Hey!" He snapped at the boy, who flinched in response. "Get off there, that's where I sleep." But the harsh tone just made the boy sniffle; a strange sound coming from what was supposed to be a flesh eating half-corpse. Tony rolled his eyes, but relented. "Fine, you can stay there." The boy made a weird, agreeable humming sound. "Not sure you should actually need sleep, anyway," he added bitterly.

This would all have been incredibly fascinating if the kid wasn't an immediate threat to his health. After all, he could have infected Tony at any minute.

"You're gone by morning, got it? I don't need a _pet_." But the kid had already drifted off to dreamland. Tony grumbled to himself as he plopped into his half-ripped bean bag chair.

Maybe it _was_ about time Tony started seriously working on a cure.

When Tony woke up the next morning, he glanced over to the futon to see if the kid had actually left. There was no one there. It felt a little bittersweet, but Tony figured it was probably for the best.

Before the guilt could settle in, however, there was a loud crash coming from the direction of his work station. Tony whipped his head around. Sure enough, the zombie boy wonder had dropped a glass beaker, destroying one of the few precious scientific instruments he had left.

Tony jolted out of the bean bag (though not without groaning from having to sleep half upright). "You stupid little..." he stomped over to where the kid was standing--half terrified, half guilt-stricken--and shoved him out of the way. "Where the _hell_ do you think I'm gonna get another of these, huh?"

He turned to him, glaring fiercely. But it started to melt when the kid started crying. How is _that_ possible? Tony groaned and ran a hand down his face.

"There's a dustpan or something around here. Just...make yourself useful and clean up your mess, okay?" The boy nodded, and gave another weird, gurgly sniffle. "Christ…" Tony muttered to himself and shook his head. He still couldn't believe this... _thing_ could smile.

Tony furrowed his brow as he looked over his workstation, with his notes sprawled all over.

The first thing he noticed is that his tools were scattered about in a way that an ordinary (not Tony) person would have easily knocked over or shifted anything if they were trying to read his chicken scratch. Even if they were _very_ careful. He sighed, sparing the kid a quick but apologetic glance as the boy looked around for the dustpan.

The next thing he noticed is that a lot of his equations, questions, and other unknown variables, which had very much been blank before last night, were filled in with a slightly neater hand and in red ink. Tony frowned, and briefly considered that he may have been sabotaged.

But the third, and by far most _unbelievable_ , thing he realized: the less illegible red scrawl is _correct_.

Tony was just staring at it for a full two minutes before he was taken out of his reverie by the sound of glass shards crunching together. He looked down to see the kid was obediently sweeping up the shards of his beaker.

"You got a name, mini brain eater?" Peter's shoulders hunched when Tony started speaking again, but quickly relaxed when he realized there's no venom left in there. "Because I'm thinking you're at least smart enough to remember _that_."

The kid looked up, a sad expression on his face as he let out the same groan that all the other infected people do.

Tony sighed, but this time there was no underlying exasperation. "I feel like I've heard that one before," he joked, and it managed to get the kid smiling again as he stood up to dispose of the broken glass. A giggly groan came out, and Tony couldn't help but find it endearing.

He looked over the papers once again, and an idea suddenly popped into his head. "Can you...write it down?" He asked the kid, who was now keeping a safe distance. But Tony jerked his head to indicate it was okay for him to come over. "C'mon, _I_ won't bite." The boy laughed again, and Tony easily decided he wanted to hear that sound as often as he could.

The kid grabbed the red pen he'd been using earlier, and looked at Tony nervously; like he was afraid of taking up any more space on the papers on the table. He proceeded to produce a fresh notebook from a drawer, which the kid could use instead.

"I had been saving this for something important. But now seems as good a time as any other." He opened the cover and nodded toward the blank page. "Go on, let's put a name to that pretty face." And yes, there was skin peeling off, but Tony could recognize good bone structure a mile away and he could _swear_ there was a blush under that pale, greyish hue.

Slowly, carefully, the kid wrote out the letters:

_my name is Peter._

"Peter," Tony said, and the boy nodded. He smiled. "Nice to meet you, Peter."

Peter smiled back and began scribbling again.

_I know who you are mister stark._

Tony raised his eyebrow, but wasn't completely surprised. Peter would have to have some baseline knowledge in biochemical engineering to be able to have figured out those equations. It wasn't Tony's specialty, but it was Oscorp's and his name still carried weight in _all_ scientific fields.

"So you've heard of me? I'm assuming you worked for a rival company." Peter nodded and started writing again.

 _Hammer_.

He looked just a little ashamed, and added: _unfortunately…_ , before Tony could respond one way or another. He gave Peter a sad, pitying look. "So you've been like this from the start?" Peter nodded.

_more or less…_

Hammer Tech had been ground zero for the infection two years earlier. Tony hadn't even known they had a biochem division before it was all over the news that a flesh eating, zombifying virus had started spreading. He had been working late at the lab when it happened, so it was by sheer luck that he'd been able to lock himself in and also keep everybody else out.

"Did you know?" Tony asked. It seemed like an innocent enough question, but Peter was hesitant to respond and wouldn't meet his eyes. "I'll take that as a yes."

_it's complicated._

Peter still wouldn't make eye contact, but he looked frustrated, like he realized how that sounded.

_I was a test subject. I was able to resist complete shutdown before they decided to make it deadlier._

Tony scratched his beard as questions raced through his brain. But Peter was writing again before he could vocalize any of them.

_and viral. and airborne._

"So this was all just another case of military funding gone whacko, huh?" Tony gritted out. He'd suspected as much from the start but wasn't completely sure. Peter nodded.

_pretty much._

Tony gave him a sad smile. "At least you're trying to correct their mistakes." Peter gave his own melancholy grin and looked away again.

_i was just an intern at the time._

Tony sighed, and he was probably going to regret it, but gave Peter a long and firm hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered. The kid's breath hitched at the contact. Tony squeezed harder--Peter probably hasn't been touched by another human being since. When he let go, he immediately scribbled out another note.

_thank you sir_

Peter's subsequent tears began staining the pages, so he closed the notebook and clutched it to his chest.

"Hey, hey, c'mere," Tony soothed as he led Peter into another hug. "You're okay." Peter buried himself in the older man's broad chest as he really started to let it out. It was an incredibly sad yet strangely soothing soothing sound; the wracked sobs almost caressed by the constant wailing undertone.

Gently, he pried Peter off of his body and gave him a determined expression. "Look at me, Pete." The boy forced himself to meet Tony's eyes. "I'm gonna get you cured, alright? And you're gonna help. And then we're gonna cure _everybody_ and finally bring this planet out of this hellhole once and for all." Peter nodded, sniffle-groaning along with Tony's words of encouragement. "That sound good to you?"

_sounds good sir_

Tony kissed the crown of Peter's head. The boy made that pleased hum from last night again. "Good."

Once they started seriously working on figuring out a cure, it's obvious there are certain things that they just won't be able to acquire normally. Every time they thought they'd made a breakthrough, Peter pointed out some crucially important tech that they could easily get from Hammer Tech HQ, but not elsewhere.

"No, it's too dangerous," Tony said for the fifth time that afternoon. It's been a week since Peter walked into his life and he was _not_ ashamed to say that he'd grown fond of him. "We still don't know what will happen if you get bit, and I'm not willing to take that risk."

Peter started furiously scribbling in the notebook. Tony suspected the kid must have been quite the chatterbox, considering he'd gotten about three-quarters of the way through the pages. He crossed his arms as he waited for Peter to finish.

_I spent a LOOOONG time surviving on my own b4 u came along so I think I might be able to make it thru the horde w/o gettin bit. I kno where 2 get all the stuff Tony._

Tony considered Peter's words, mentally measuring risk versus reward. Even if he _did_ have to go back alone, he'd be able to cure Peter with antidote he'd be able to make. But would he attack Tony if he's bit? Would double the virus mean Peter's more likely to die before he can get the cure out?

And most selfishly...would he forget about Tony once cured?

"I don't know…" Tony sighed.

_pls sir._

Peter gave him those big, pleading puppy dog eyes, like he could sense Tony was close to finally breaking. "I just…" He carded his fingers through Peter's greasy curls. The kid made a soft noise at the contact, almost like a purr. Tony felt his heart flutter at the sound. "I hate to say it, but I can't stand the idea of losing you." Peter did his little zombie giggle at that.

_I'm already lost._

"No you're not," Tony insisted as he stroked Peter's hair some more, eliciting more sweet sounds. "I mean, look at me: even when I'm caring about someone else, I'm _still_ being selfish." He sighed again as he pulled Peter in for a soft hug. "Denying all of humanity its chance at redemption. Just for you."

Peter buried his peeling face in Tony's chest. The boy's skin was always ice cold, but it still made Tony feel warm inside when Peter got affectionate. They were both pretty touch-starved, he realized.

"Okay," he eventually breathed out, before Peter started squealing and hugging him. "But we're going to spend a lot of time planning so we can go out _prepared_ tomorrow, alright?" Peter nodded rapidly. "And when we're out there, you do _exactly_ what I say. Understood?"

_understood!!_

They spent the rest of the day determining exactly what they needed to complete the cure _and_ spread it as quickly as possible. The list started long, but eventually they're able to narrow it down to four critical pieces:

  1. DNA sequencer
  2. Digital file with the original virus's specs
  3. Dispersion device (industrial fan)
  4. Macguffin #4



The last item was a placeholder, which Peter claimed he'd "know when he sees it." He was even able to draw a map to clearly identify where each item was.

But there were two major issues:

  * They'd have to split up or else it would take too long to get out and they'd be overwhelmed.
  * Creating the map left very little paper for Peter to write on and communicate with.



_If we split up I wont ned 2 tak as much_

"Yes, but it also means we're more vulnerable."

_ur mor vulnerable. I hav built-in camc_

Tony raised a brow. Peter was usually fairly precise, even as they've had to be more economical with letters. "Camc?" He looked like he was trying to fill in another letter. "You mean camouflage?

The boy nodded furiously but seemed suddenly overcome with panic as he tried carving through the paper with the pen.

"Pete, what's--" Tony cut himself off when his stomach filled with a sinking sense of dread. They'd spent so much time thinking about _paper_ that Tony forgot about the limited life span of an average ballpoint pen.

"Shit," he cursed. Tony knew he didn't have any other writing instruments (any ink he found was used for booby traps or experiments; god forbid a scientist used graphite for recording important breakthroughs). It was also already dark out, which meant they couldn't just go find one.

Peter let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a yell as he threw the pen across the room.

"Hey, hey, none of that," Tony scolded as he grabbed Peter's arms. "We'll just look through your notebook and cut out words to use, okay? It'll be fine."

Peter's lip was dangerously wobbly, but he nodded firmly. Tony smoothed down his hair.

"We'll get through this, don't worry."

Peter got started carefully cutting out words with the safety scissors (anything sharper Tony kept as part of his "arsenal") while Tony wrapped them in scotch tape as a form of pseudo lamination so they didn't get crumpled.

They were about 20 phrases in when Tony threw Peter an incredulous look.

"Why did you cut out 'I'm sorry'?" He asked, only slightly wary. Peter looked away like he was embarrassed. But before Tony could press any further, a blaring alarm goes off.

"How the--how did the hell do they know we're here?" Tony growled as Peter covered his ears. The alarm didn't mean they were surrounded, only that there was a horde approaching. "Pete, pack the map in my bag and find something to carry your words in," he barked. Peter was quick to gather them up.

"We've got five to six minutes before everything goes to shit." The boy nodded as he started carefully rolling up their crude, taped together map. He ran over to where Tony's shoulder bag hung near the door. " _Maybe_ seven."

As Peter gathered his words into an old fanny pack, Tony pulled out one of the drawers at his work table and got out a pocket knife, along with the rest of his emergency weapons--including his handgun. He had only half a magazine left with no extra ammo, so he'd been avoiding carrying it around.

He tested the knife a couple times, flipping out the blade; when Peter wasn't looking, he slipped a microchip into the base.

Tony had _no_ idea what could have gone wrong. The retro-reflective panels he'd covered the outside of the lab with should have prevented any outsiders from even noticing there was a room here (Oscorp was _crawling_ with infected humans).

Outside, there was a clanging sound. Peter jumped, but it would be at least three minutes before the door could be broken through. "Get my bag, we have to go out a different way." Peter nodded as he removed Tony's shoulder bag and strapped on his fanny pack.

Tony scanned the room, trying to figure out what happened. Peter was jogging toward him when he saw it: the dry pen. The pen must have hit one of the panels by accident, therefore causing a glitch in the cloaking.

Tony took a deep breath as Peter approached. Something twisted in his gut. He pointed at the broken panel. "Did you do that on purpose?" He didn't raise his voice, but the tone was low and threatening.

Peter looked over. His eyes went wide, but he shook his head.

"Why did you cut out 'I'm sorry', Pete?" Tony asked again. He pointed the knife at Peter, who started to tremble. "Playing the long game, huh?"

Peter shook his head again and quickly unzipped the fanny pack to pull out a phrase:

_other._

"Other _what_? Other motive?" Tony spat out. Peter pulled out more words

_please?_

_go_

_now_

Tony ground his teeth, but another loud clang signaled they don't have much time left. "Here, take this," he handed Peter the knife. "I better not regret this, come on."

He grabbed Peter by the elbow and yanked him through the secret manhole exit. Once they'd climbed down to the sewers, the boy reached into the fanny pack to pull out _'I'm sorry.'_

Tony sighed angrily, briefly closing his eyes in frustration. "Not now, we have to move."

They managed to plot a route through the sewers to make their way to Hammer Tech HQ. Tony talked through their plan of action along the way, while Peter nodded along.

He avoided mentioning the, _'I'm sorry.'_

"So once you've downloaded the file, we meet back at the elevator doors in the lobby, got it?" Peter nodded again. "There _should_ be another manhole about ten feet away from the front entrance from the building." Tony pulled out his makeshift GPS to confirm. Peter sniffled behind him.

Getting to the entrance from the surface was much easier than anticipated. There were actually no zombies hovering outside the main door--but they both knew the real threat lay inside.

"You ready?" Tony asked as he gave Peter's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He nodded firmly. "Good." He gripped the handle of the door. As soon as he did, they could hear shuffling, followed by rapidly approaching groans. "Just stick to the plan, and we'll be okay.

Tony opened the door with a dramatic flourish. The lobby was _brimming_ with them, but the pair knew what to do. As the hoard began slow walking forward, Tony shouted, "Now!" and took off to left toward the staff elevator.

He didn't have time to look back as Peter charged forward to crowd them all in the narrow hallway just beyond the foyer. All he heard was the tapering off a loud battle cry as he rapidly jammed the call button and raced through the steel doors once they opened.

Using the map, he found the room and the items they needed easily enough. He was in sub-sub-basement, while Peter would be on the floor right above. But he knew things could easily go wrong.

He pulled out the GPS to check Peter's location, only to find that the boy seemed to be going...up? Tony groaned in frustration.

"That little _bastard_ ," he cursed under his breath. Peter had claimed they only needed to map out those two floors despite the building being almost 50 stories high. "He better be in mortal peril or some shit."

Tony was barely able to carry both the sequencer and the industrial fan. Thankfully, two years of surviving an apocalyptic landscape had made him stronger. He tied both power cords around his waist and hauled them over his back, then headed out of the room.

If Peter was going to abandon him, he might as well do the boy's job as well.

He took the elevator up to the next floor, grumbling curses and regrets about never letting his guard down again as he consulted the map.

 _"Tony?"_ A soft voice crackled over the intercom. The sound made his whole body freeze. A bitter, but very familiar chuckle followed. _"I had assumed you'd just leave when you realized I'd lied to you, but I guess you're more determined than I thought."_

Tony gave his own venomous laugh and shook his head. "So after all that, you were _faking_ the infection? That what you're sorry for?"

 _"I haven't been faking anything,"_ the voice replied, though it was noticeably softer. _"Well, I_ may _have been pretending to be slightly less of a genius than I actually am, but I_ was _infected."_

"And now you've _magically_ created the antidote?" Tony snorted. "You _knew_ it was here the whole time and just...just wanted to take it for yourself? While the rest of the world kept _burning_?" He gritted his teeth and headed back for the staff elevator.

_"Please don't go up there, you'll get infected!"_

Tony rolled his eyes, ignoring Peter's warning as he got back in. The GPS indicated he was all the way at the top. "I'm getting that antidote, Peter, even if I have to kill you for it."

 _"I took all that was left,"_ Tony groaned as the voice followed him into the elevator. _"So if you kill me, there's no chance of recreating it!"_

Tony furrowed his brow. "I'll just cut you open to get it, simple as that," he said, but the words were hollow because he knew exactly what Peter meant.

 _"I_ know _you're not that stupid, Tony,"_ Peter sighed over the intercom. Tony ripped off the machines and threw them to the floor of the elevator in anger. The elevator jolted to a stop. _"I can see you're already headed to the top floor, but you should know that it's just your pocket knife up there."_

Tony's eyes widened.

_"My office is actually on the first floor so I'm still in the lobby. I pro--"_

The kid really _was_ a genius, but there was no time for admiration. "Well I'm not heading there now, Pete," he cut him off. "Got about halfway, but now the elevator's stuck." Tony began pressing buttons, to no avail. "Yup, definitely stuck."

 _"Shit…"_ Peter muttered.

"Watch your language, kid," Tony chuckled as he plopped onto the floor of the elevator. He figured he'd be here for a while--might as well get comfortable.

 _"I'm 25 and I'm trying to help you, asshole."_ Tony couldn't help but snicker. _"So just shut up and listen to_ me _for once."_

"Knew you'd be a talkative one," Tony quipped back.

 _"Look,"_ Peter started, ignoring Tony's remark, _"the drone I used will still be up there and it should be strong enough to open the elevator doors_ and _carry you down the elevator shaft."_

"Carry me?" Tony asked indignantly. He heard a loud crash from somewhere up above.

 _"The drone is making its way through the floors now."_ There were more crashing noises, the sound of metal tearing through wood and concrete, plus a lot of dangerous-sounding groans. _"It should be reaching your floor shortly._ "

Sure enough, the metal doors were soon being wrenched open. But the drone seemed to have attracted some followers along the way. "Why didn't you just have it open the doors on the top floor and come down the elevator shaft?" Tony said as he pulled his gun out of his shoulder bag. "Might've drawn less attention that way," he snarked.

There was silence on the other end as Tony switched the safety off. He shot a few times through the widening hole to try and scare some of the zombies away.

 _"...just open the hatch at the bottom, okay?"_ Peter replied in a pouty tone.

"Oh, so maybe you aren't a 'genius' huh?" He managed to pry the bottom open just as the drone zipped through the doors and grabbed him.

 _"Can you at least_ try _to sound grateful for me saving your life?"_ Peter replied and Tony can hear the eyeroll in his tone.

Some of the zombies still made it through, but the drone dropped through the hole before they could reach him.

"What happened to that sweet, innocent, little baby who'd cry at the slightest sign of confrontation?" Tony mocked cruelly as he was carried down. "That just part of the whole 'slightly less than a genius' schtick?"

 _"Can you just shut up for one second?"_ But Peter's voice was no longer crackly. More like an echo, if anything. _"I'm trying to get the door in the lobby open, you dick."_

"Am I gonna have to wash your m--wait, _what_?"

"I just realized the drone can't hold your weight and open the doors at the same time!" The voice was getting closer. A grey-skinned body zoomed past him and Tony looked up: the zombies were actually _walking_ through the hole to get to him.

And then the drone stopped.

"Well you better hurry up!" Tony shouted at the door." There was a familiar scared noise in response. Maybe it wasn't all an act, he thought. "Your little experiments are learning how to make a monkey chain."

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" Peter said in a panicky tone. "But the doors will only open in a genuine emergency!" He groaned, clearly having failed once again. "Like the building being on fire or something."

"What about a terrorist threat?" Tony asked as he got an idea. A very, _very_ risky one, but it could work.

"Yeah, I guess! But they can't be tricked, so there has to be an _actual_ danger present."

Tony exhaled slowly as he aimed his gun squarely at the door. "That's _insulting_ ," he said before emptying out the last of the magazine. He was able to hear Peter's terrified whines from the other side, but the doors did open and Tony was safely carried through them.

"I'm sorry!" was the first thing out of the boy's mouth after Tony was dropped rather unceremoniously to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm _really_ sorry, seriously..." and continued babbling until the older man got up to pull Peter into a fierce hug.

The boy slowly relaxed into the embrace, just like he always did. "You have to believe me, I--" Peter started shakily, but was cut off by Tony's finger on his lips.

"I don't care, Pete. I _told_ you I'm selfish." The boy looked up with wet, trembling eyes and his face etched with confusion. "You're okay and that's all that matters."

Peter buried his face in Tony's chest with his usual pleased hum; somehow, it sounded even sweeter than before.


End file.
